


maybe stop taking it so seriously?

by Ros3mary



Category: South Park
Genre: First Kisses, Fluff and Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, South Park: The Fractured But Whole, Stan is Hopeless, Toolshed is weak af and ya’ll know it, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:02:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24384751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ros3mary/pseuds/Ros3mary
Summary: Stan is over his head in crushing, feuding, and fighting, so he tries desperately to separate “Stan” and “Toolshed”. Kyle rolls with it, mostly, though it really was his fault in the first place.
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	maybe stop taking it so seriously?

**Author's Note:**

> i’m tired
> 
> enjoy???

Stan sighed as he hit the asphalt, hard, wincing a little at the suddenness of it. He rolled onto his stomach and stretched out with his head on his arms, trying to get comfortable despite how fucking beat up he felt, absently picking at one of his old scabs on his hand as he tried to ignore how his head pounded. 

God, sometimes playing Superheros fucking sucked. Mainly the ‘actually getting your ass kicked’ part.

He watched the battle with only half an eye, kind of hoping that nobody revived him, at least for a little bit, so he could just lay here. It wasn’t like being the first one down was unfamiliar to Stan. Unlike Token or Timmy, Stan didn’t have a shit ton of health. It wasn’t rare knowledge that Toolshed wasn’t exactly the hardiest hero.

The Freedom Pals and Coon and Friends were fighting once again, on the playground this time, which only meant that the black, gritty asphalt only hurt worse when Stan inevitably got got. Falling first had stopped being a hit to the ego around the twentieth battle, but goddamn if hitting the ground wasn’t still Stan’s least favorite thing ever. He was actually deeply considering adding pillows or something to his outfit. Maybe a helmet? That would probably be too dorky.

It wasn’t long before Stan heard a loud, “Pew pew!”, accompanied by the unmistakable woosh of someone getting laser eye’d by Human Kite. He lazily tilted his head up and caught the edges of a colorful heat beam searing into Token. Kyle was standing right next to where Stan had fallen, looking pretty beat himself, honestly.

Still better than Stan, though. After all, Kyle had been the one to put Stan down this fight, hadn’t he? 

Sighing, Stan pressed his cheek deeper into the crook of his elbow. He was sick of the Freedom Pals vs Coon and Friends feud. He didn’t regret siding with Freedom Pals, just that Kyle had been stupid enough to side with Cartman of all people. He mostly, deeply regretted that somehow the feud hadn’t only driven their Superhero selves apart, but that also Kyle had been icy towards him in school and civilianship. 

“Fuck!” Kyle’s reedy voice yelled, and then the ground shook just a teensy bit as Kyle collapsed onto his stomach, right next to Stan. Kyle groaned, rubbing at his forehead. “Ouch. Goddamn it.”

Stan blinked, then grinned. “Sup, Kyle.”

Kyle startled, visibly looking shocked as he whipped his head to stare at Stan. “‘Shed, what the fuck? You’re supposed to be knocked out.”

“Well, you kicked my ass, but you didn’t knock me out, dude.” Stan said, shrugging as much as he could while laying with his arms under his head. “‘Sides, you should be knocked out, too, then.” He added.

Kyle scowled at him, resting his cheek on his arm. “Yeah, whatever. Don’t fucking talk to me. We’re fighting.”

“We’re not fighting. We’re dead.” Stan pointed out. Kyle rolled his eyes, and Stan’s heart twinged painfully. Why did Kyle have to take it so seriously?

“We’re still enemies, dipass.” Kyle said.

“What, so I’m not allowed to talk to you?” Stan said. Pitching his voice into a ridiculous impression of his father, he added, “I thought this was America. Is this America?”

Mercifully, Kyle laughed, reaching up with faux annoyance to pinch the bridge of his nose. ( My habit,  Stan thought, smiling.) “Shut up, I hate you so much, God.” Kyle said, but he was smiling brighter than Stan had seen from him in a while. 

“Who’s winning?” Stan asked, tilting his head to look, but Kyle was blocking his view. He couldn’t sit up to see, that was against the rules.

Kyle twisted his head to look, and came back with a sour face. “You are,” He said, looking like the words tasted like lemon. Key word: bitter.

Stan laughed good naturedly, blue eyes crinkling kindly in the corners. “Cool. How’s it feel eating asphalt, punk?”

“You went down first!” Kyle protested, voice pitching in that indignant way that meant he was stepping onto the path of being pissed off.

The black haired boy just shrugged, smile unfaltering. “Eh. Still winning.”

Somewhere on the playground, Clyde made a one-liner that he thought was witty and Craig bashed him for it. 

“Fuck you,” Kyle said, but the edges of his mouth were still curled into a tiny little smile. “Freedom fuck.”

“Coon bitch,” Stan snarked back. 

Kyle laughed, shaking his head and pressing his forehead into his forearm. “This is so fucking boring.”

“Not for long.” Stan said cheekily. “Check it out I brought a bouncy ball.” He reached down to his toolbelt and slipped out his small blue bouncy ball. To demonstrate, he rolled it around the asphalt.

“Why the fuck did you bring a bouncy ball?” Kyle snapped, staring at the ball as if it had personally offended him.

“For when I get down, dude.” Stan said simply. He bounced it a couple times, then rolled it towards Kyle.

“You knew you were gonna get downed?” Kyle asked, catching the ball and then rolling it back. Stan couldn’t help but smile at the easy action. 

“Everyone already knows that Toolshed isn’t the strongest hero, dude. I am the hottest though.” Stan shot back with a smarmy little half cocked grin and a wink. 

Kyle hid his face in his hands, groaning as if Stan physically pained him. “Maybe the cockiest.” He said. Stan saw that his usually pale face was red between his fingers and grinned in full.

“Ey, shut the fuck up down there! You’re dead!” Cartman’s voice rung out, making both Stan and Kyle crinkle their noses at each other in mirror expressions of annoyance.

“Fuck you, Cartman.”

“Fuck you!”

“You guys are fucking assho- Hey don’t hit me, I’m talking! Goddamn it.”

The two shared a hidden glance and then burst out giggling, Stan tucking his face into his elbow. 

A warm flush of relief twang in Stan’s chest and then spread out to his arms and legs like a blush, trailing brief goosebumps over his skin. It felt  so nice  to be talking to his super best friend again. They rolled the bouncy ball between them a few more times, wreathed in silence.

“Hey, you think we can convince the guys to play Stick of Truth again?” Stan wondered, breaking the still. 

Kyle tilted his head at him. “What? Why?”

“I miss being your knight, dude,” Stan said, sending Kyle a crooked but entirely sincere grin. 

“Gay,” Kyle muttered, shoving his nose into his elbow, red-faced.

Stan just laughed. 

“Surrender now!” Kenny’s husky hero voice yelled, “and maybe we won’t kill you!”

“You’re the ones surrounded!” Cartman yelled back, and Clyde shouted, “No you!”

“Just give up!” Tweek said. 

“You give up, asshole.” Craig’s nasally voice shot back.

“Gah! You’re such a dick, Craig!”

“That’s Super Craig to you, Wonder Bitch.”

Stan sighed. When they started trash talking, it usually lasted pretty long. The asphalt was starting to get uncomfortable, the grainy, gritty pebbles digging into his exposed skin. 

Kyle mouthed, ‘Fuck you, Freedom Fucks.’ at the same time as Cartman shouted it, pulling an exasperated face at Stan. Stan burst into giggles, shaking his head at Kyle. 

‘You’re no match for us, Coon!’ Stan mouthed at the same time that Kenny shouted it. Kyle started cracking up too, then, the two’s laughter almost loud enough together to drown out the other guys’ useless bickering. 

Stan felt Kyle’s fringe tickling his arm as Kyle curled up with his laughter, and he felt his eyes widen and his face flush as he looked down at Kyle. He hadn’t even realized that they had been scooting closer to each other this whole time. Kyle looked up at Stan, eyes crinkled, face flushed, and red hair struck aflame in the afternoon light, and Stan’s heart thudded so hard in his chest that he was sure bits of his ribs had splintered against the force. 

“Fuuck!” Tweek’s reedy voice shouted, and Stan heard a thump as he, presumably, hit the ground. 

“Take that, you fucking dick,” Craig said. 

Stan craned his head up, illegally, to see the others. Tweek and Clyde were both on the ground, and Kenny and Craig were panting like dogs. Only Cartman and Token seemed relatively unscathed. Resting his head back down, Stan clicked his tongue and said, “Looks like it’s a close tie. Good on you.”

Kyle snorted. “Well, to be fair, I didn’t do much.”

“You took me down, dude.” Stan reminded him with a grin.

“Uh huh,” Kyle said back, with a twin shit-eating grin, “and that was  sooo  hard.” 

Stan guffawed loudly, his smile breaking out almost to his ears. He shoved at Kyle’s shoulder, causing him to cackle. “Rude!” He trilled.

“ _Rooode_ ,” Kyle mimicked, smirking, nose wrinkled. 

Stan felt the incredible urge to either bury his face in the hot asphalt or kiss the shit out of this stupid pretty fuck. “Stop batting your eyelashes at me,” He ended up saying, feeling like he had to force them out around the lump in his throat. “It’s unbecoming.”

The redhead snorted again, this time ending it with a breathy wheeze. “Dude!” He shouted, appalled. They shared a warm look, Stan’s handsome eyebrows slanted, Kyle’s green eyes crinkled in the corners. 

“Hey assholes,” Cartman’s voice thundered. Stan looked up and saw him standing above the two. “Get the fuck up and stop flirting with your boyfriend, Kite. We lost. We’re leaving.”

Kyle scrambled to his feet, hastily brushing off all the grains of black rocks that had embedded into his pale skin. “Right. Uh huh.”

Stan pushed himself up, looking over at where the Freedom Pals were congratulating each other on the win. Cartman led the others off, stomping through the gate that led to the neighborhood. Stan shoved himself up and ran after them, grabbing Kyle’s arm from where he was lingering in the back of the parade.

Kyle turned with a surprised look, that Stan met with a bright grin. “Do you wanna come over and play Halo, dude? I got the-,”

“What the fuck?” Kyle interrupted, pulling his arm back with a sudden scowl. “We’re not friends, Toolshed. Stop acting like we’re buddies.”

Stan’s head tilted, eyebrows slanting and blue eyes taking on that kicked puppy dog look. “What? But I-,”

“Fuck off. We’re the better franchise and we’re gonna kick your asses into the asphalt someday.” Kyle said, but his face dropped the scowl, just looking a little confused as he stared into Stan’s almost stricken face. 

“Uhm.. I thought-,”

“You thought wrong.” 

Kyle turned on his heel and jogged to catch up with the other Coon Friends, straightening his kite as he did. 

“You can’t trust Coon and Friends,” Tweek’s voice said, right beside Stan. Stan looked over to see him glowering with all the force of a thunderstorm at Craig’s retreating back. “They’re backstabbing assholes. They say they love you and then they don’t even fucking fight for you once they get a better deal.”

Skin prickling with discomfort, Stan started to subtly back away. “Right.” He said.

“I mean, how many times did I support him? Just for him to turn on me at the first chance?” Tweek continued, slicing his arm through the air.

“Uh huh.” Stan said, edging backwards some more.

“And for what? So he can get his own fucking movie? All I had was that fucking romance Japanese bullshit...”

Tweek’s voice faded out as Stan escaped, shaking his head as he trudged into the neighborhood. “I just wanted to play Superheros,” He muttered. “I didn’t sign up for all this emotional bullshit.” 

Shrugging off the tool belt and tossing the glasses onto his desk felt like breathing some fresh air. Stan flopped onto his bed, face-first, only to instantly sit up and peer out his window into Kyle’s. Who knew being a Superhero came with so much emotional baggage? No wonder the movies were all so angsty. 

Kyle’s bedroom door swung open and the boy himself walked in, looking similarily beat to how Stan felt. Face burning, Stan dropped back down onto his bed, feeling like Kyle catching him would be something akin to a sin. 

Stan dragged a hand down his face, sighing too wearily than a boy his age should be sighing.

This was all bullshit. 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is marble-seafoam,,,, cyberbully me maybe? 😳😳
> 
> also nice comments make my heart go boom! drop some compliments if you wanna boost my ego teehee ;)
> 
> i fucking appreciate all of you!!!!!


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